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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098219">ελεημοσύνη</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraserheadbaby/pseuds/eraserheadbaby'>eraserheadbaby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fate/stay night &amp; Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Crest Worms, F/M, Gen, Medical Procedures, Route: Heaven's Feel, i think the ship tag and kireis pov are warnings on their own</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:07:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraserheadbaby/pseuds/eraserheadbaby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, a seed doesn't grow into a flower, but instead becomes a weed that exists to besoil the ground and then withers. Those are the prettiest flowers, the ones worth stomping on until dirt envelops them whole.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kotomine Kirei/Matou Sakura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ελεημοσύνη</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The finger skims across the nude chest and the concentrated Mana on its tip promptly tears the skin open. The incision is complete.</p>
<p> So many people have passed from Kotomine Kirei's hands over the years – it's the duty of any priest to offer assistance to anyone, after all, even in medical matters as troubling as this. But it's rare he's assigned to cases like this. Pure, almost taintless flesh, lily white, and any droplet of red on it would look like a forced, immiscible mixture of blood and milk.</p>
<p> Kirei knows not to get swayed by this cover, though. He knows this girl's body is nothing but a human-shaped vessel for the hell unleashed inside it.</p>
<p> It's with unruly excitement he looks into that very same hell through the opening he just imposed on Sakura Matou's skin.</p>
<p> There's barely anything in front of him that resembles a human organism – it's more like a simulation of natural physiology, that instead resulted in a parody of it. Flesh, veins, bones, everything discolored, murky, pallid, purple and green from the inadequate oxygen and blood circulation and the overconsumption of Mana. The entire thorax, the heart, all bear the weariness befitting of a modified human. Blood clots, gashes, blisters, pus stick to their surface like thorns. So the Martyr bears her crown inside her and not on her head, after all.</p>
<p> And of course, the main violators of this body, the representatives of the cursed thaumaturgy imposed on the girl – the Worms. They stick like mud on all the internal crevices of the frame, one and the same with nearly all its nerves. Poisonous slime is left all over from their trail, and it blends with the blood beautifully. A few of them, too weakened to constitute a threat, fall outside the open chest and onto the metal table, where their wriggling noisily leaves blotches of slime and blood.</p>
<p> Once someone has started opening a gift, they have no reason to look back on the wrapping paper. Still, Kirei's eyes move upwards, to the porcelain face.</p>
<p> How many pained expressions has this innocent face worn until now? How many times has this labored heart clenched in anguish? Not many, Kirei supposes – it's become fairly obvious to him by now that the Matou's paradigm of magical training really is as hard as it's said to be, and Matou Sakura has been nothing but successful in enduring it. Still, their rarity is what must make those moments precious, and what leaves Kirei with the small thrill of a quick fantasy.</p>
<p> But Matou Sakura's body proves to be an honest treasure chest, containing both small pearls and grand diamonds like the ones he sees just now. Webbed with the vile Worms and the piles of worthless flesh, shine some few, glorious shards doused in black and red. That same black and red that, once before, coated the curtain that was lifted right before his eyes and clarified the cacographic shape of his heart.</p>
<p> Up to now, Matou Sakura has been nothing but a bottle storing all the pebbles life threw at her – good for a few smiles directed at her misery and nothing more. Yet, she's designed to bloom into the creator of a new world, a magnificent new world, a world of revelation for Kirei.</p>
<p> Sometimes, a seed doesn't grow into a flower, but instead becomes a weed that exists to besoil the ground and then withers. Those are the prettiest flowers, the ones worth stomping on until dirt envelops them whole.</p>
<p> Affection runs all over Kirei. Yes, at this moment he feels affection for Matou Sakura, so much that he'll do whatever he can to let her near dead body persevere, to let her live only to be steeped in even more pain, to let her spread the same disease to the people around her, and ultimately infect the entire world.</p>
<p> In tandem with his mind, the seals on his hand have already begun burning, using all their Mana. Of course, even that amount of energy won't suffice for anything but the elimination of the poison in the body, but such a sacrifice is naught compared to the cause it serves.</p>
<p> On the tip of his tongue lie words that he had uttered way back then, when he, or more truthfully his blade, was about to meet the man he'd considered to be the path to the answers he'd sought after all his life.</p>
<p> Back then, he was proven wrong. Now, the meager figure in front of him, the afterimage of what it would soon, very soon become,    sheathe his soul with such security that the words come out with all the conviction they'd never shown in all his years as a priest.</p>
<p>“I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry for the greek title it just didnt hit the same in english u kno</p>
<p>also its v possible this doesnt make sense and is inconsistent w canon somehow so sorry for that too... i just wanted to write a fucky fic for my fucky ship...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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